


the studio

by renmoojunskz



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Death by illness, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Lots of Angst, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Illness, Suicide Attempt, physical illness, poet!changbin, really sad im so sorry, skz members not mentioned, sorry lmao, you'll probably cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renmoojunskz/pseuds/renmoojunskz
Summary: jisung was the stars. everything changbin had. and he was broken. but changbin still orbited him.





	the studio

changbin remembers the day he realized he was in love with jisung. it was raining outside and both boys sat in changbin’s studio.

he had bought it a few months ago. it’s an old building that he bought for cheap with 4 rooms; a bathroom, a bedroom, a strange small room, and the large main room. the large room was what was used the most. the bedroom had a bed and the bathroom was functioning. but, the main room, it was everything to changbin. his poems scattered, taped with different colors of tape to the walls, sketches and charcoal drawings joining them. the few awards he has won. there was an old couch, a dining table and a coffee table, the small kitchen, and then there was changbins desk. it was big, L-shaped, and messy. the drawers full of pens, tape, paper, notebooks, and drawings. the surface scattered with more of the same, and his laptop and computer among the mess. and across the room was jisungs chair. he always sat there when changbin was writing or drawing. sometimes he slept, or he just watched. 

it was one of those days where jisung watched. changbin had turned to say something and found jisung in his own hoodie over his underwear, watching quietly. and he realized just how in love he was with the boy. 

it was crazy really, he had been with jisung through his mothers mental break and his father's drugs, and he was there when jisung first tried to kill himself. so it's crazy to him that he realizes now, in a moment that always happens.

and now, 3 years from that day, the studio was more full, papers and notebooks stacked against the walls, books stacked on shelves, jisung’s unfinished paintings leaned on the wall. jisung’s making food for them. 

“jisung do we have juice?” changbin asks, typing away. 

jisung hums, handing him a glass.

jisung didn't talk much. he had never talked that much. changbin never pushed him. and jisung appreciated that.

jisung sets his food down next to the laptop, sliding his hands around his chest and leaning his chin on changbin's shoulder.

changbin smiles to himself, hoping the younger doesn't feel his heart racing. 

jisung nuzzles his face into changbin's neck, humming softly.

“what's up lovely?” changbin whispers.

“tired.” jisung sighs softly.

“want to stay here tonight instead of going home? i washed the blankets.” changbin smiles.

jisung nods.

“let me finish this part. i'll meet you there.” 

jisung disappears to the small bedroom. changbin smiles. he loves these nights. they are rare; jisung doesn't like to cuddle all that much. they have their separate apartments, both small and old, not the best. but some nights, they sleep here.

he saves his poem and heads to the bedroom. the drawers on the side contain some of their spare clothes and he takes pride seeing jisung in a pair of his shorts and his shirt.

he changes fast and joins jisung in bed. “are you in the mood to cuddle?” 

jisung rolls over into changbin's chest and rubs his cheek on the older boys chest. changbin smiles, skin tingling where jisung touches him. he holds the small boy tightly. “good night.” 

 

-

 

“jisung would you read this?” changbin asks, biting his nail. 

jisung plops onto his lap and reads over the poem. “it's pretty.” 

“really? should i turn it in?” changbin asks, nervous.

jisung nods. 

changbins poems are never good enough for him to give them to his editor. and technically, it isn't his editor, he doesn't truly edit anything. he just gives it to the publisher who adds it to the growing collection that is soon to be a book. or put into competitions.

changbin sends the poem to his editor and sighs, leaning back in his chair and letting jisung settle back into his chest.

he can always tell when jisung isn't feeling the best. he gets a bit more touchy and even more quiet than usual.

so changbin lets him be clingy and ride out the small depression slip.

it had been a long time since jisung's last depression slip. and changbin was happy that he was getting better.

“alright i'll take you home, babe. grab your jacket.” 

 

-

 

jisung had fallen in love with changbin the first week they had become friends. the older boy had sat with him at lunch. jisung had ate alone all of his years of high school. and now he had someone, in his last year of college. a quiet boy who won all of the writing awards.

“hi, jisung right?” changbin smiles, setting his lunch down, “i’m changbin.” 

jisung looks up, offering a small smile.

and from that day to the end of the year, they ate together, changbin walked him to classes and drove him to school.

and jisung fell in love only a week after the first day, when changbin invited him to his apartment and they watched movies. changbin didn't ask him to talk, he just told him stories and let jisung answer when he wanted. and jisung saw how handsome he was doing the smallest things. then he showed jisung his poetry and he really knew how in love he was.

changbin was there when jisung's mother went insane. he was holding jisung's hand in the hospital, helping him catch up on school, visiting his mom with him. and changbin's apartment was the place he went when his dad got drunk.

those were the only times jisung opened up to him.

 

-

 

“you're finished?” changbin asks, looking at jisung.

jisung nods, paint smeared on his cheek. he turns so changbin can see the painting. his art was different from changbin's. changbin's was bright and happy. yellow and orange and bright blue. jisung's was always black and brown. this particular painting was some type of creature. it had multiple legs sprawled across the large canvas, all shifting at weird angles and seemingly broken. the body itself was a circle, big and round. it was black, the background a grey tint. and most of the body was taken by the mouth. wide and screaming, fangs dripping something brown and throat stuck in an endless scream. the only color was red. it laced through the legs and pooled below. and all jisung says is, “self portrait.” 

changbin stares. “it's beautiful jisung. but i think you need more yellow.” 

jisung laughs. and it's airy and light. it's rare to hear it and it makes changbin smile.

“can i hang it with my poems?” 

jisung nods. 

changbin finds a nail and hangs it. he smiles. 

“home.” jisung whispers, stepping closer to changbin who wraps an arm around his waist and hugs him. 

“home.” changbin smiles. 

 

-

 

changbin notices when jisung gets skinnier. when the puffiness of his cheeks starts to melt away. and he sees the way jisung has put his paints away. and most of all, he has noticed jisung sleeping in his studio. 

and changbin was scared for him. 

he looked like he did before his last depression slip. and changbin really didn't want another of those.

he had started to stay back with jisung, sleeping on the couch, just to be sure jisung slept and ate something.

and it started to get worse.

jisung would never go home, bringing more of his things to the studio. he didn't speak a word to changbin either.

changbin steps in one day, about two weeks after it had started, to find jisung ripping his paintings to shreds. the finished and unfinished ones. but he left the self portrait hanging.

“jisung stop. what are you doing?” changbin grabs his hands. 

the younger boy stares up at him, tears on his cheeks and puffy lips. 

he pulls away and rushes to the bathroom, locking himself there. changbin sighs, letting him calm down.

except a few minutes later he hears it. the rattle of pills.

he slams on the door, all of his breath being put to screaming. open the door, let me in, stop, unlock it. all to no avail.

until changbin knocks the door down to find jisung nearly passed out on the floor, an empty bottle of pills on the floor next to him.

the rest of the day was blur, tears and fingers down his throat. screaming as loud as he can for help until he calls. he doesn't hear the sirens, doesn't feel himself being ripped from jisungs body, doesn't feel the cold seat under him as he rides to the hospital.

he sits for what feels like years until a doctor talks to him.

his mouth is moving but he can't hear him at first.

“sir? sir?” 

changbin blinks. “yes?”

“you are han jisung's husband correct?” 

changbin nods, the words sending pain through his body. they had put that for emergency contact to make things easier once jisung left his father.

“he's alive.” the words send pure euphoria through his vein and he starts to cry again. “he's weak but alive. and we are going to have to…” the words trail off, turning to mumbled whispers in changbin's mind.

“can i see him?” changbin blurts.

the doctors guides him through the halls to a small room. in here, changbin can hear everything. the honking of cars on the street below, the beeping monitor, the wheezing breaths, the plant leaves rustling.

changbin immediately attaches himself to jisung. “oh my god baby you scared me so much. i was so scared. don't ever do that again oh my god.” he cries.

jisung weakly holds him and offers a sad smile. “i’m alright, binnie.” he whispers.

changbins heart jumps. “okay sungie. you're gonna be okay.”

 

-

 

changbin wishes he had heard what the doctor had said.

because in this moment it felt as though jisung was being ripped from him once again. 

the nurses take him, telling changbin to wait for further detail.

but changbin can only think that they're going to kill him. they're going to take him to that fucking asylum and murder him. he hates hospitals. this is the same as taking his throat and shredding it.

changbin screams. sitting on the sidewalk, he screams.

he screams until his throat is raw and his lungs burn. and then he goes to jisung's apartment.

he finds a mess. 

broken paintings and sketches scattered on the floor. empty pantry and fridge. bedroom a fucking hell. 

no wonder jisung didn't come here anymore. it was a reminder of his father.

changbin leaves, making his way through the rain to his studio. but the studio smells of jisung and he sees jisung everywhere. so he goes home.

every day he goes to the asylum, asking to visit han jisung. and each day the same reply, for months, “he isn't taking visitors right now.”

so changbin stops trying. and it hurts. so he writes. he writes his soul on those papers, scribbling and ripping the sheets. 

he writes until he no longer has a soul. until he is empty and hollow.

and he can't bring himself to go to the studio anymore.

so he doesn't. for two weeks.

and those two weeks are the most painful for him. he had won two awards for his soul pieces. and now he sits. he sits at home and stares. he stares at the tv or the wall. mostly the wall.

those months without jisung felt like he was being suffocated slowly. he couldn't breathe. his lungs were filled with smoke and his brain was filled with jisung.

and one day, he goes to the studio, and he can breathe.

 

-

 

jisung spent 2 months at that hospital. he hated every second. and as much as he hates to admit, the stupid medicine and tactics actually helped in a way.

when he leaves, he spends another two months sitting at his apartment. and when he returns to the studio, changbin isn't there.

and that hurts more than jisung has ever felt in his whole life.

he had always had changbin. through the most hard times in his life. and now when he needed him the most, he wasn't there.

jisung spends days at changbin's desk, reading the unfinished and finished poems he had never seen before. he slept there and he got food for the kitchen. he kept it clean while he waited. but it was always dark without changbin there.

the day the light was turned on, was the day changbin walked through that door again.

 

-

 

changbin didn't see him at first. 

he had come in and sat down, turning his computer on and starting to work.

jisung slowly places a bowl of ramen on his desk and slides his arms around his chest.

he feels changbin let out a breath and then relax.

neither say anything. changbin lets jisung stay there for a while until the younger moves to sit in his chair.

and changbin felt whole again. 

he could breathe and he could feel his heart pounding.

he had jisung back.

 

-

 

for the first few days they didn't speak at all. they sat and did their own things.

changbin wanted to tell him. he wanted to say how in love he was. but he felt it wasn't a good time before.

and today, his heart aches to tell him. he knows he will be rejected but it's okay. he doesn't mind. he just needs to say it.

“jisung?” changbin turns, nerves eating at his heart.

“yeah?” 

“come here,” changbin whispers, patting his lap.

jisung settles there softly. “what?” 

“i uh…” changbin clears his throat. “i have been in love with you for years. i know you don't feel the same i know you're broken and hurt but i… i just wanted you to know. and i want you to know that i'm here for you and i love you.” changbin breathes.

jisung blinks at him.

changbins heart pounds as jisung smoothes his shirt, hands on his shoulders.

“well,” jisung smiles, voice cracking. he was crying. “i've been in love with you since the day we met. and i was scared. scared of losing you, scared of rejection. and that… makes me feel so happy. you have helped me through so much, changbin. and i love you. i love you so much that it hurts. and i’m sorry i’m broken and suicidal. but you always make it better. always. and i… i just love you.” jisung sniffs, finally making eye contact.

changbin was crying too, having never heard jisung say that much. “wow, i was so scared you would leave me but…” he trails off, smiling.

“kiss me.” jisung whispers.

changbin does just that, slowly pressing his lips to jisung in one slow kiss, one he had been waiting for for what felt like his whole life. his body ignites and his skin is on fire but feels ice cold. his hands shake as he holds jisung's waist and he feels jisung's hands shake as well, holding his shoulders. it was slow and soft, their breaths mingling together shakily.

changbin rests his forehead on jisung's when they pull away, breathing softly. “please…. be mine…” he whispers.

jisung nods and kisses him again. “i'm sick. i’m dying changbin. i only have a year. but… i want to spend it with you.”

the words hit changbin like a ton of bricks. “you… what?”

“my organs are deteriorating slowly. in a year i'll be withered away. but for now… let's get married.” jisung smiles.

changbin is crying at the news, “okay let's get married.”

it was only a courthouse wedding but it bound them together forever. and changbin knew that when jisung was gone, he would never love anyone again. 

the first few months were happy, jisung talked more and he ate more. he painted and he even did clay.

they moved into the studio together, making it their permanent home.

it had started getting bad about six months before jisung's doctor said he would die.

changbin woke up to jisung coughing vigorously. blood had stained his shirt and he apologized over and over for it.

changbin simply washed him and brought him back to bed to sleep.

over the months jisung got progressively more tired. he slept more, ate less, and changbin could tell he was in a lot of pain.

he would sit on changbin's lap as he wrote and end up falling asleep for changbin to take him to bed.

a month before it was supposed to end, jisung was 86 pounds. and he hasn't been eating. he slept at least 12 hours a day. his face had gotten pale, cheeks sunken in and bags under his eyes. 

he refused to take the medicine for the pain.

changbin knew it was coming soon.

and it hurt. it hurt so much.

he remembered the years of jisung sleeping at his apartment, the late night cuddling and changbin talking to him until he fell asleep. the weeks of painting. the day he bought the studio and jisung had told him how much he loved it.

jisung was everything to him. he had never had any other friends. he had no parents. his mother died in birth and his dad abandoned him with his grandmother, who developed dementia when changbin was 18. jisung was all he had. 

changbin knew. tonight was it. jisung couldn't walk. he didn't speak. changbin just knew that it was over. 

he didn't cry. he picked jisung up and brought him to sit on his lap. he rubbed his back as jisung straddled him. he was weightless. he was already among the stars.

changbin scans his “jisung” folder on his laptop. all the poems he wrote for jisung about his love, jisung's sickness, and the pain of everything.

changbin reads them and smiles at the memories. and he looks at the small canvas jisung had given him the day before. it had the words “i love you” painted in messy black scrawl and that was it. changbin already had an appointment to get it as a tattoo. he didn't tell jisung.

he feels jisung's small broken breaths on his neck.

jisung slowly raises up, shaking, to kiss him. it was gentle, broken. 

they knew it was the last. forever. 

it was short, a simple press of the lips. but it made fireworks explode.

it was getting late and changbin felt the life being sucked from jisung. the stars were taking him. 

he slowly carries jisung to bed. 

he was careful, slow. and he held him tightly, his fragile body.

jisung smiles softly. “i love you,” he whispers.

changbin smiles, starting to cry.

his last breath leaves his lips shakily a few minutes later and changbin sobs lightly. the stars are bright that night, as they take the only love changbin ever had from him. 

“you were the only poem i ever loved to write.”

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh well i worked on this forever and now its done. sorry for making you cry i hope you liked it. let me know what you think and check out my aus on twitter @binseobins


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